Aug 12, 2008
The Haphazard Garden III
Ohhh, hindsight is 20/20.
Me: So I think that for our next garden we really should listen to seed-spacing advice...
Kelly: Umm...maybe. Yeah.
The garden is producing! We get cucumbers and green beans every day and the tomatoes are HUGE. They look like they're all going to ripen at the same time. They fell down and I almost cried but then I found some stakes in the garage and saved them. Emotional attachment to plants? Oh, what has my summer become? Judging by the number of one-sided conversations I've had with my dog, Baxter, I think I have spent TOO MUCH TIME inside. Damn these suburbs and the isolation accompanying them.
Baxter and I had a little catastrophe yesterday. Now, I do not want to be the person on the internet who talks about her pets and how precious they are but I guess I am going to be that person for at least a paragraph. It is a short story, do not fear.
So I leave for the coffeeshop yesterday, ignoring Baxter's whines and pleas for me to play with him, saying "Later, buddy, we'll do it later" because I have this idea that maybe my dog has a concept of time. It is a bad side-effect of being stuck at home. Anyway, I come home from the coffeeshop and he doesn't rush to greet me at the door. It is cool, it is ok, he sometimes does this. He holds grudges, that dog. The belief that my dog can hold a grudge, do things out of spite, and generally hate is pretty legitimate, and I don't believe it is a side-effect of too much time spent alone. Anyway, I hang out and read the paper and then I get a little miffed. Like, where is that dog? Did I accidentally leave one of our 56734525 billion doors open in this house? Did he escape? Is he out playing with the neighbor's dog like he is prone to? A mystery! So I search the house. I search under all the beds (he is a small dog) and all the closets and bathrooms and call his name and I can't find him and I am getting legit freaked-out. I call the neighbors. I call my sister. I start to cry and invent dog-murderers and dog-nappers that would take advantage of the fact that I left the basement porch door unlocked accidentally.
Then I decide to check again. Mom's closet. I call "Baxter?" and I can see a tail wagging in the corner, from UNDER A PILE OF CLOTHES. That damn dog was hiding. HIDING. OUT OF SPITE. BECAUSE I WOULDN'T PLAY WITH HIM.
Ugh. BAXTER, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO GO AND DO ME LIKE THIS?
Man, I am sorry for being that internet pet person, but I done gone and did it. Srsly, sry, plz forgive.
P.S. I've fixed my labels as you can see in the side bar. I decided to really only label some things. Like stories and when I do the webcomics thing. And when I do the quotes thing, because you know what? Sometimes I get frustrated because I try to find that one quote I did that one time and I can't. So it helped me and maybe it helped you? Maybe? I hope.